


The Things We Do For Each Other

by waypoint



Series: Ever Forward [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Post 5x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waypoint/pseuds/waypoint
Summary: Root invites Shaw on a simple mission to help her adjust to being back with Team Machine.
However, the mission goes awry when they are intercepted by another party.  Root is forced to think quickly and make some difficult decisions in order to keep Shaw safe; from the enemy and from herself.





	1. Prelude

 

 

 

Root pushed open the door to the safe-house, brushing some of the water from her sleeves. Her latest cover identity had expired, but the Machine had given her a quick and urgent mission for this afternoon. From the message Root deciphered, the Machine wanted her to enter an office building downtown and gain access to a laptop. Though the instructions were quite vague, Root understood that the computer was very important. Perhaps it carried a piece of code, or vital information. Either way, it seemed straight forward.

 

The stop at the safe-house wasn't necessary, as Root could easily complete the task herself, but she wanted to check in with Shaw and perhaps convince her to join. A simple mission might help her get back into her routine, and assist with the transition back onto the team. John had sent her a message earlier saying he was going to try and include Shaw, too. He and Harold received a number for a young paramedic and they figured Shaw may have some good insight on the case, given her previous medical career.

 

Since escaping from Samaritan, Shaw had opted to stay in the safe-house rather than the subway, at least until she could travel freely around the city. The Machine couldn't provide Shaw with a full identity yet, so it seemed like the best option. Despite not wanting to leave her side, Root was careful not to smother her with attention. She understood that Shaw needed her space, and wasn't going to jeopardize her recovery because of her own needs.

 

“Oh my _god_.”

 

Her overly affectionate greeting died on her tongue when she shut the door behind her. She could hear Shaw in the other room making a noise that sounded an awful lot like moaning.

 

“Mmmm, _yes_. You're amazing, Carl.”

 

Root remained by the door, slowly shedding her coat as she tried to think of a logical reason that Shaw would be making _those_ sounds, and speaking with someone named Carl. As Shaw continued to be vocal, Root finally started down the stairs and called out to her.

 

“Honey? I'm home.”

 

“Root! You've got to get in here,” Shaw hastily replied. Her voice came from the designated dining area of the safe-house. She sounded excited which added to Root's confusion.

 

She slowly walked around the corner and finally laid eyes on Shaw. The situation before her was... unexpected. Though now that she was seeing it, she _should_ have expected this.

 

Shaw was just sitting at the table with a bowl of what appeared to be spaghetti in front of her. She had a white napkin tucked into her collar, and a wine glass in her hand. Standing next to her was Elias, holding the bottle. He was obviously the 'Carl', Root realized. She couldn't help feel somewhat relieved that _food_ was the cause of Shaw's delighted groans.  Perhaps a little embarrassed, too.

 

“Oh,” Root walked towards the table, “what's going on here?”

 

“Sameen and I were discussing food and I happened to mention that I make a decent carbonara... One thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

 

She and Elias were forced to become room mates, as he was at risk from Samaritan too. Root was surprised at how well they got along. Both were incredibly intelligent and capable in their own way, not to mention Shaw's appreciation for food and Elias' talent in the kitchen. He seemed to be fond of her.

 

“Decent is an understatement. Sit down and try it.” Shaw encouraged, twirling a healthy amount of pasta around her fork.

 

“Oh no, I couldn't,” she waved her hands in front of her, but Elias had already disappeared to the kitchen.

 

“Shut up. You're having some.”

 

Moments later, Elias reappeared with a plate in hand. He placed it down on the table next to Shaw and Root finally took a seat. He handed her a napkin which she laid across her lap.

 

“Samantha, would you care for some wine? I know it's early, but I have a _Cortese di Gavi_ that pairs wonderfully with the dish.” He placed a glass in front of her and held out the bottle.

 

Shaw interjected before she could reply, “it's _Root_. I don't know how many times I have to tell you.”

 

“Shaw, it's fine.”

 

Shaw stabbed her fork down a little too aggressively and mumbled to herself, “it's not fine.”

 

Elias poured wine into her glass. “Root it is, then. I assure you, it was not my intention to offend. I've just noticed that Harold prefers your given name.”

 

“I know,” she took a modest bite of the dish and was pleasantly surprised. “This is excellent, Elias, thank you.”

 

He dipped his head to her, “you're very welcome. Ladies, enjoy.” With that, he stepped out of the room.

 

In the time in took them to have the short conversation, Shaw was already finished with her meal. She took a sip from her wine glass.

 

“Amazing, right? Should have served it with bourbon, though. Bourbon goes with everything,” Shaw took the napkin from her chest and wiped her mouth.

 

Root nodded. She was truly impressed with the dish, being something of a foodie herself. She couldn't help a small smile; it was good to see Shaw enjoying herself after what she went through at the hands of Samaritan. “I'm just glad _this_ was the reason for... your noises when I came in.”

 

“What?” Shaw raised an eyebrow at her.

 

“Never mind,” Root chuckled, “the Machine asked me to pick up a computer downtown this afternoon. I could use your help, if you're interested.”

 

Root noticed Shaw's expression fall slightly. “You need my help with a tech thing?”

 

“I'll need someone to watch my back in case I need to crack an encryption.”

 

Shaw was hesitant, “you trust me to do that?” She kept her eyes off Root and spoke quietly. She was focusing on the wine glass, spinning it slowly on the table.

 

Root reached over and covered Shaw's hand with her own, stopping the movement. Their eyes met.

 

“I trust you with everything.” Root's voice was serious, but her eyes were warm. She pulled her hand back, not wanting to make Shaw uncomfortable.

 

Root stood from the table and collected the dishes. Shaw followed her into the kitchen area.

 

“I already told John I would help him with some EMT.”

 

“You still can,” Root shrugged. “This wont take long, I promise. In and out.”

 

Root opened a few cabinets until she found a white pill bottle, she walked back into the dining area with Shaw still in tow. Shaw watched her while rubbing the back of her own neck. She sighed, and it was clear she was feeling for the chip. Unfortunately, she still had a habit of checking for the device installed by Samaritan in the simulations. Every time Root witnessed it anger filled her bones, followed by fierce determination to help Shaw keep hold of reality.

 

“Okay fine,” Root clasped her hands together excitedly, “but only because I'm sure you'll get yourself into trouble.”

 

“We'd better get moving, then.” Root said. She took a pill from the bottle and placed it on her tongue. She used the leftover wine from lunch to wash it down.

 

Shaw's eyebrows knitted down slowly as she watched Root. “What are you doing?”

 

Root gave a small shake of her head, “it was just an aspirin. I felt a headache buzzing in so I wanted to nip it in the bud.” She stepped closer to Shaw, “I don't want anything ruining our date.”

 

Shaw stared for a moment before rolling her eyes. It's something she hadn't seen since Shaw came back, and it made Root's heart sing.

 

Together they walked towards the door. Root took the black cap hanging on the wall and handed it to Shaw before retrieving her own coat. After a moment, she opened the door and walked through.

 

Though Root couldn't see, Shaw's lips twitched up in a quick smile as she followed behind and shut the door after them.

 


	2. Office Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root's “simple” mission turns out to be anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

 

 

 

It took only a few minutes for them to drive to the office. Root was careful not to hit too many zones with camera coverage. Although Samaritan would still have difficulty identifying her, the period in between covers was when she was most vulnerable.

 

They entered together from the building's side door in order to avoid the receptionist, and rode the elevator up three floors. Some of the offices were undergoing remodeling and had to be cleared, luckily the third floor was one of them. This meant that not only was it devoid of people, but security coverage was also slim. Root figured that this was why the Machine sent her here so urgently.

 

“What's so special about this computer?” Shaw asked.

 

“She didn't tell me.”

 

“Do you know where it is at least?”

 

“Have a little faith, Shaw. It's just down this way.”

 

Though she spoke cheerfully, Root couldn't deny that she was beginning to feel some concern with this mission. Luckily, having Shaw with her was balancing out her nerves. Even having to limit their contact, the Machine would usually still send her small hints, but She remained silent since this morning.

 

However, Root had noticed that the droning in her head had become louder since they left the safe-house. Earlier she thought it was just a headache but perhaps the Machine was sending interference through her implant.

 

“Look at this,” Shaw kicked a cardboard box that was on the ground. It was marked with a T, “Thornhill owns this building?”

 

That was... odd. Sending Root here wouldn't be necessary if the Machine already owned the place. Shaw drew her gun. “We're the only ones here, Sam.”

 

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

They kept walking and finally made it to a door controlled by a panel on the wall. Root entered a few commands and the door slid open, revealing a modest looking office. Large windows in front, and a bookcase on the side. In addition, there was a control panel and screen on the wall next to the door. A single desk sat by the window with their mark atop it: a black laptop. Root opened the computer while Shaw remained by the door, her gun at her waist. Root sat at the desk and began trying to break through the encryption. The code was unique, not unlike some of the code she saw when they were re-building the Machine.

 

“Find anything interesting, nerd herd?” Shaw called back, her eyes scanning for movement.

 

Before she could respond, a high pitched whine shrieked through her implant. She grunted and stood up quickly, holding her head with both her hands.

 

Shaw turned to face her, “what the hell was that?”

 

Root squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the noise to fade away.

 

Shaw took a step closer, “Root?”

 

“My cochlear implant,” she began, her breathing evening out again, “I don't know what happened.”

 

“Screw this. We're leaving.”

 

Root nodded and closed the laptop, reaching for the cord in the back and pulling it free. The Machine sent them here for this computer, they may as well take it. She could work on learning it's relevance somewhere safer.

 

Shaw turned towards the door again, but stopped in her tracks. She saw several men in suits converging on the room.

 

“Root!” She yelled as the men raised their weapons.  Shaw stepped in front of Root as they fired, returning shots as well.

 

An alarm began to sound once the guns went off. With the computer under her arm, Root drew her gun and tried to reach the doorway. Before she made it, however, the door slid shut on it's own accord.

 

“This must be some kind of panic room!” Root yelled over the noise. She turned in time to see the windows seal themselves too. She pushed a few commands on the control panel until the alarm stopped. “We need to get out of here.”

 

Root looked to Shaw.  She was leaning strangely against the desk, her face twisted in a snarl. She held her gun with a white knuckled grip, and her other hand was over her abdomen.

 

“Shaw?”

 

“I knew you would get into shit. I just knew it,” Shaw's breathing was labored, and Root noticed that sweat had began to bead on her forehead. Shaw pulled her hand away from her body. It was colored red with her own blood. “God damn it.”

 

Root stood looking at her with wide eyes. She didn't even notice Shaw taking a hit. Root was never particularly claustrophobic, but something about Shaw being in hurt in this completely _sealed_ room was making her feel like the walls were closing in. Panic crept up into her chest. Her mind was racing, as was her heart.

 

She should have taken the buzzing in her implant as a warning. She shouldn't have convinced Shaw to come on this mission. She should--

 

“Root,” Shaw said through her clenched jaw. “Can you stop thinking so loudly? You're giving me a headache.”

 

“Shaw,” Root reached forward and held Shaw's arms. She guided her down to the floor so she could sit against the wall. “I'm so sorry.”

 

“It's okay. This is nothing.”

 

Shaw was a good liar, but not a great one. Given the amount of blood she was losing already, she needed medical attention as soon as possible.

 

“ _We should stop meeting like this._ ”

 

Root turned towards the sound of the voice. The monitor by the door had came on, and she could see Zachary, one of Samaritan's lackey's, on screen.

 

Root stood and faced the screen, her eyes hard. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you. What do you want?”

 

“ _I suspect we're here for the same thing you are: the laptop._ ”

 

“And I suppose you want me to just hand it over?”

 

“ _That would be ideal._ ”

 

“As soon as I open this door, you'll kill us,” though she couldn't see how many other agents were there, she was certain she and Shaw were out numbered, and out gunned.

 

“ _Consider this your lucky day, Miss Groves,_ ” Root's face twitched at his use of her old name, “ _I have authorization to give you a chance to escape. Surrender the laptop and you will be allowed to leave._ ”

 

She scoffed, at the same time she heard Shaw mumble “bullshit” from behind her.

 

“ _Alternatively, you can keep the laptop, but return Miss Shaw to us._ ”

 

Zachary had some nerve. “Or I could destroy the computer, open this door and kill you all.”

 

“ _We both know that that is unlikely. You have ten minutes before our offer expires. At which point we will blow this door open, take the laptop, and put you two out of your misery._ ” With that, the screen flickered off.

 

With Shaw bleeding out on the floor and their escape options very limited, ten minutes was both an instant, and an eternity. She turned and knelt in front of Shaw.

 

“Give me your phone,” Shaw complied slowly. It looked like she was having trouble keeping her head up, and her eyes were drooping. Root reached out and gently tilted Shaw's head up, “stay awake for me, sweetie.”

 

Root unlocked the phone but as she feared, there was no service. Of course this 'panic room' wouldn't allow cell signals.

 

“This is fucked,” Shaw said between labored breaths.

 

“That's certainly one way of putting it.”

 

“Is the Machine's location on the laptop or something?” Shaw sounded delirious.

 

Root frowned, “She wouldn't send us to find something we already know.”

 

“Whatever. Can we just start this over already,” she sighed heavily and stretched her arm out. “Pass me the gun.”

 

It was sitting just out of reach. Root made to grab it, but stopped before touching the metal. Start over? A troubling thought struck her. “Shaw, why do you need your gun?”

 

She didn't answer. Her skin had become pale and she was fighting to stay awake. Root concluded that Shaw may be thinking she was in a simulation again.

 

Root obviously wasn't going to give Shaw back to them, and the computer must have been important enough for the Machine to send them out here in the first place. That left only one move. It was risky, but it's all she had.

 

“Sameen,” she leaned forward and took Shaw's face in her hands, “you know I love you, right?”

 

Root was rewarded when Shaw gave a small bob of her head. Whether acknowledging the declaration, or just slipping between consciousness, it was good enough. She leaned Shaw against the wall again and stood up, walking to stand in front of the screen.

 

“I have a counter-offer.”

 

A few seconds passed and the monitor came to life again. This time, however, it was a stranger on screen instead of Zachary. He had glasses and curly hair. Something about his smile made Root's skin crawl.

 

“ _You look even more appetizing in person_.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“ _Where are my manners? I'm Stuart. I was one of Sameen's doctors while she... stayed with us._ ” He laughed a nasally giggle that nearly made Root shudder. He looked over her shoulder, “ _hey beautiful. Can't wait to have you back. I've missed looking inside you. Your head, that is._ ”

 

“I'll kill you if you come near her,” Root spat back, her voice venom. She could hear Shaw mumbling expletives.

 

“ _So feisty!_ ” He laughed again, his face close in the monitor. “ _I can see why she likes you so much._ ”

 

She didn't have time to ponder his words as Zachary appeared on screen again. He pushed Stuart aside and regarded Root.

 

“ _You made a decision?_ ”

 

“You can have me.  Both Shaw and the computer stay here. Call an ambulance for her, and I'll come with you willingly.”

 

“ _What makes you think we want you?_ ”

 

“Well, I _am_ Her analog interface... you would be trading up as far as I'm concerned.” Root shrugged, hoping to appear calm. Samaritan needed to take the bait if Shaw had any chance of making it out of this.

 

Zachary shook his head. “ _It's pathetic how you let your feelings govern your choices. One moment while we consider your offer._ ” With that, the screen turned black again.

 

“Root...” Shaw spoke up softly, “they'll kill you.”

 

“Maybe,” Root stepped closer and knelt down again, “but this is the only way I can think of to save you.”

 

Shaw extended her arm towards Root and grabbed onto her. Root blinked to keep her tears at bay, and placed her hand over Shaw's.

 

“Please,” Shaw begged.

 

The monitor came to life again. “ _You're in luck. Mr Greer has deemed your offer to be adequate. Open the door._ ”

 

“Everything's going to be okay.” Root stood up and Shaw's hand slipped away.

 

Root's hand hovered over the control, but before she could open it, she heard gunshots from the speakers. Zachary and the other goons began stumbling around and returning fire; the new party seemed to have fired smoke grenades into the office. For the moment, the Samaritan agents no longer seemed concerned with the laptop, and Root wasn't going to waste this perfect distraction.

 

“What's going on?” Shaw asked distractedly.

 

Root quickly ran to her, shedding her sweater in the process. “Change of plans, honey.” She tied the fabric as tight as she could around Shaw's abdomen, attempting to help stop the bleeding. She looked to the computer, the whole reason for this mess, and raised her gun. Since she couldn't save it _and_ Shaw, she'd have to make sure Samaritan didn't get their hands on it. She shot it twice.

 

“Ready to get out of here?” She took Shaw's arm and lifted her up, pausing for a moment before hoisting her up over her shoulder into a fireman's carry. Shaw responded by clutching the fabric of Root's tank top with her free hand.

 

Gun and (sort of)girlfriend in hand, Root opened the door.

 

She shot the Samaritan agent who had unfortunately remained behind in the chaos, while everyone else had appeared to scatter. She coughed as she tried to get her bearings, the smoke making it somewhat challenging.

 

“For such a petite girl, you sure are heavy,” she jested.

 

“Mmm... it's all muscle...” Shaw mumbled. Root smiled and took out another agent. She hoped it had been that creepy doctor, but he appears to have fled, along with Zachary.

 

Root made her way to the exit while the rest of Samaritan's team exchanged fire with their mystery savior. She saw a figure clad in a gas mask standing by the door to their freedom and raised her gun. When he noticed her, his hand immediately went up in surrender.

 

“Heard you could use some help,” John Reese spoke as he lifted his mask up. Root had never been so happy to see the big lug.

 

He opened the door to let her through and followed after firing a few more shots. She made her way down the stairs as quickly as possible, painfully aware of Shaw bouncing around on her shoulder, and John following close behind. Then, Root felt Shaw release the grasp on her shirt; she must have finally lost consciousness.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“The Machine told Finch you two needed an urgent extraction. This way.”

 

He led them down one extra flight of stairs to the parking structure. Pushing open the door, John scanned for threats, and waved Root forward. Thankfully his car was close by. When they reached it, he opened the back door and helped Shaw off of Root's back. As gingerly as he could, he lay her in the backseat while Root took the passenger side. Reese entered the drivers seat and started quickly towards the nearest hospital.

 

“She doesn't look good,” he spoke, glancing back in his rear-view mirror.

 

Root turned in her seat to look back, the seriousness of this situation starting to really sink in.

 

“John... please hurry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this chapter to take place in a bank vault but sadly it didn't quite work out.


	3. Watching and Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw is taken to the hospital to recover. Meanwhile, Greer tries to salvage some potentially critical information.

 

 

Once arriving at the emergency, John was able to use his NYPD status to limit the questions being asked by the doctors. He and Root were confined to the waiting room while the paramedics dragged Shaw into immediate surgery. Root spent the first several minutes pacing back and forth. Then, when her legs could no longer carry her, she simply stood still watching the doors; her face blank, and her mind unsettled.

 

She felt a weight on her shoulders and when her mind came back into focus, she saw John standing next to her, placing his coat over her. With everything going on, she hadn't realized how cold she was. John took her arm and led her to a nearby chair. They sat together.

 

“So what happened?” He asked.

 

She explained going on a simple mission for the Machine and being ambushed by Samaritan. She told him that Shaw had been shot which led to Root offering herself to them in exchange for Shaw's freedom. He sighed and shook his head.

 

“I didn't have any other options, John.”

 

“I know.”

 

A few moments of silence passed between them before Root spoke up. “I thought you had a number?”

 

“Our EMT works the night shift so right now he's at home sleeping. Fusco is watching the house.”

 

“Thanks for helping us.”

 

He gave a small nod and they fell back into comfortable silence.

 

Root clutched his coat and looked around the emergency area. It hadn't occurred to her the danger they were still in. Root was in between identities, Shaw was a priority target for Samaritan, and they had both barged in here without regarding the security coverage. Not only that, but the Samaritan agents knew Shaw had been injured and could have logically predicted which hospital they would end up at. She abruptly stood.

 

“Sit down. She's going to be fine.” Reese said calmly, as if following her train of thought.

 

“She's in danger here, John.”

 

Wordlessly, he took his phone from his pocket and held it out to her. Curious, she took the device and looked at the screen. There was a message from an unknown number that read: _IDENTITY SECURE_.

 

“The Machine is looking out for Shaw. Don't worry.”

 

Root sighed and sat back down next to him, handing him the phone back as well. She resumed watching the doors for movement, noticing the buzzing in her ear was slowly returning.

 

 

*

 

 

“Report.” Greer ordered as Zachary stepped into the control room. He watched the feeds for any sign of the Machine's agents.

 

“Sir, we've ascertained the hospital that Miss Groves and Miss Shaw fled to, but we cannot pinpoint their exact location as of yet. The Machine may be blinding us to their identity.”

 

“And the laptop?”

 

“We recovered the device, but it is badly damaged. Our team is seeing what data can be retrieved as we speak.”

 

“Keep me apprised.” He nodded, and Zachary turned to leave the room. Greer regarded the Samaritan interface, “how shall we proceed?”

 

Text flashed on the white screen:

 

LOCATION

 

DETERMINED

 

SHORTLY.

 

SEND

 

NEWEST

 

ASSET.

 

Greer nodded and opened a communication channel. After a moment, a woman's voice answered. “Yes, Mr Greer?”

 

“Mona, my dear. I think it's time we send Mr Blackwell for another check-up.”

 

 

/

 

 

Root observed Reese over the next hour. Though he appeared to be calm, she was beginning to think he was just as worried about Shaw as she was. He got up from his seat several times: checked in with Finch, brought coffee, checked with Fusco. He was so stoic yet so very caring.  She admired him for that.

 

“Detective Riley, Agent King?” A doctor called out, and the pair were on their feet immediately.

 

“How is she?” Reese asked while Root stood by anxiously.

 

“She lost quite a bit of blood, but we were able to remove the bullet fragments with no complications.”

 

Root sighed in relief. “When can we see her?”

 

“She's in recovery room 504. You can sit with her, but she's heavily medicated. She'll likely be sleeping for some time yet.”

 

“Thank you,” said Reese, and the doctor walked away. “You should go and see her. I'll head back to the subway now that she's out of the woods.”

 

Root agreed and made to take off the coat he lent her, but he waved her off. He started to walk away when an idea struck her. “John,” he turned back, “if it's not too much trouble, would you mind bringing me a computer? I need to take care of something.”

 

He nodded, “I'll be back shortly.”

 

She smiled and made her way to the recovery ward. She found the room easily enough and pushed through the door.

 

Shaw was sleeping on the bed, and looking much better than last she saw her. She had two IV's attached to her arm, one being blood, and the other was a clear solution. Root could already see the color coming back to her skin. In addition, she was connected to a heart monitor that maintained steady, even beeps. Root took a seat next to her bed and watched for a few moments, thankful that they both made it out of that mess.

 

It was within an hour that Reese returned with her computer, some food, and a change of clothes. He sat with her for a while before being called away, their number was beginning his shift and he had to relieve Fusco.

 

Root thanked him for the supplies and began researching a new target once he was out of the room. She sat with her feet up on Shaw's bed, her computer warming her lap.  Minutes passed before she thought she heard Shaw make a noise. She set her computer down and sat up.

 

“Sameen?”

 

Shaw sighed, “this hospital has shit for anesthetic,” her voice was hoarse.

 

Root laughed and leaned in closer. She held Shaw's arm and stroked her hair. Despite her complaints, Shaw must have still had some medication in her system since she dreamily tilted her head into Root's touch. Shaw smiled in a contented way that Root hadn't seen before.

 

“Go back to sleep.  You're safe now,” Root encouraged, noting that Shaw's eyes were foggy and unfocused.

 

“Mmm-hmm, sure,” her eyes fluttered closed, “remind me to say 'I told you so' once I'm lucid.”

 

“Of course, sweetie.”

 


	4. Who's Protecting Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samaritan sends an operative after Shaw. Root struggles to make a challenging decision.

 

 

Using some human intelligence, Samaritan was able to determine the room where the priority target was recovering in. Logic suggested that the secondary would not be far. Jeff Blackwell made his way to room 504, his instructions clear: apprehend if possible, terminate if necessary.

 

He slowly pushed the door open and observed the target sleeping in the bed. She seemed small and unthreatening, Jeff momentarily wondered why she was such an urgent issue, but he shook the thoughts from his mind. He stepped to the edge of the bed.

 

“Really? They sent _you_?” A female voice spoke to his right. He hadn't seen her when he entered, but Jeff recognized her as the woman he encountered several weeks ago while on the job.

 

Not wanting to give her a chance to gain the upper hand again, he swung his fist, sending her backwards when he connected with her jaw. Surprisingly though, she remained standing and drew a gun from her waistband.

 

Jeff threw himself into her, clutching her wrists with his hands. They slammed into the wall with great force, knocking the wind out of the woman. That wasn't enough to slow her down, she kicked her knee up against his abdomen twice, causing him to double over. Still holding her wrists, Jeff brought her to the ground along with him. Hearing her gun clatter on the floor, he used their momentum to roll himself on top of her.

 

Having had enough of her opposition, he clasped his hands around her neck and squeezed. Even though she was quite slim, he could gauge her strength from the fight she was putting up. Had he not surprised her, the outcome would have been quite different.

 

Noticing that she was now reaching for her gun, he increased the pressure on her throat. Her fingers wrapped around the metal, but before he could react, he heard two loud pops which made his ears ring.

 

Jeff shut his eyes momentarily and loosened the grip on his opponent. He started to feel light headed and there was a warm sensation was making it's way across his body. He saw that the woman now had some blood sprayed on her face and cast her eyes down to his chest.

 

Following her line of sight, he could see two spots blossoming red on through his shirt. Still astride her, Jeff turned his body slowly to look behind him. The priority target was sitting up in her bed with a gun in hand. He stared at her, looking between the gun and her face; her eyes were clouded with both a stillness and fury. They were dark voids so profound that one could easily be lost in their depths. It was terrifying. In that moment he understood the danger she posed.

 

Dark spots prickled his vision, colors blurred, and sounds faded. She was the last thing he saw before sliding into emptiness.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Root gasped for breath as the now-dead weight of Jeff Blackwell fell on top of her. She grunted while rolling him to the side. She sat up cautiously, somewhat dizzy from their scuffle, and looked to Shaw. She still had her gun trained forward, hand shaking and eyes hard. Root carefully lifted both of her hands up.

 

“Shaw, it's okay.” She slowly rose to her feet.

 

“What's going on?” Shaw demanded, lowering her gun slightly.

 

“We're in the hospital. You were shot this afternoon, remember?”

 

Shaw took a deep breath and used her freehand to rub her neck. Apparently satisfied, she sighed and clicked the safety of her gun. “I thought he was going to kill you.”

 

Root sat on the edge of her bed, wiping the blood from her face. “I had him right where I wanted him, actually.”

 

Shaw stared at her, “really? On top of you and choking your lights out?”

 

Not one to miss an opportunity for innuendo, Root replied: “Careful Sameen, I might think you were jealous.”

 

“You're ridiculous.”

 

“You love it.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and Root smiled, despite nearly being killed moments ago and sitting just a few feet from her attackers body. She figured it was probably time for them to leave. If Samaritan sent Blackwell, more operatives would likely follow.

 

She phoned Reese for extraction, but since he was preoccupied, he used his connection with Elias to call in a favor. Within the hour, a few of his gang members assisted in their escape from the hospital. Root figured that the Machine would take care of any electronic evidence left behind, and Elias' men were more than willing to dispose of the body.

 

Root suggested that Shaw stay at her current apartment until she was fully recovered. She was expecting some resistance on the topic, but surprisingly Shaw agreed. Perhaps she wanted to keep an eye on Root as well.

 

Relieved that they were both alive, Root definitely wasn't going to complain about being able to spend more time together, though her upcoming side project may draw her away. Their two very recent brushes with death have reminded her that they were living in very uncertain times.  She would need to make sure Shaw remains safe, no matter the cost.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

Over the few days, Root continued to work from her computer, making sure Shaw didn't exert herself too much. She went on short runs in the morning, careful to dress her would before hand, and they spent evenings together providing basic assistance to the Machine. Shaw checked in with Harold, and made sure he promised to bring Bear over when he was able. He and John had received another number in the meantime, so they had been busy. Shaw used one of Root's computers to keep up with news, and read the dossiers on the teams recent and upcoming numbers. Though Root could tell she was getting restless. Nevertheless, she was healing very well and would fit for field work soon.

 

Root still experienced buzzing from her implant, causing her uncomfortable pressure in her head. She hoped that Shaw was focused enough on her own injury not to notice. She set an alert on her computer and phone for her little side-mission, which meant that sometimes she would need to make up an excuse to leave. Shaw wasn't stupid, however, and Root knew she suspected something was amiss. In the hopes of distracting her, Root returned home that night with pizza in hand.

 

“Meat lovers for you, Hawaiian for me.” Root set the two boxes down on the kitchen island. Shaw rose slowly from the couch and walked over. Root could tell that her gait was still a bit off, likely to compensate for her injury, but it definitely improving.

 

“Hawaiian?” Shaw said with disgust, “you like pineapple?”

 

Root shrugged, “it's good for you.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Shaw opened the meat lovers box, “it's revolting is what it is.”

 

“Really? I figured you'd eat anything.”

 

“I respect my body, and _pizza_ , too much. It's where I draw the line. God, Root, this might be a deal-breaker.”

 

“A deal-breaker?”

 

“You know, for,” she gestured vaguely between them, “this.”

 

“Oh?” Root raised an eyebrow, a flirtatious smile playing at her lips, “are we a 'this' now?”

 

“Shut up.” Shaw said, the words lacking any sting. Root's smile became a grin and she took a healthy bite of the pizza.

 

Together they stood by the island eating in silence. Well, mostly silent. Shaw, of course would produce an occasional delighted groan at her food, as expected. After several minutes, they both ate their fill.

 

“So,” Shaw began, “you still want me pretending to believe your crap excuses for taking off?”

 

Root was caught off guard, but only slightly. She hadn't underestimated Shaw's observation skills, but was hoping to delay this conversation for a few more days.

 

“Sweetie, I don't want to bore you with details...”

 

“It's not like I'm occupied with anything else here,” Shaw shrugged, “maybe I can help you.”

 

“No,” Root answered too quickly, she realized. “I just... last time I asked for your help, you almost died. And the time before that...”

 

“Is that really what this is about?”

 

Root struggled to answer. She wanted to share the information she gathered, but she couldn't predict Shaw's reaction. This mission very much involved Root becoming her old self, for a time. Though she knew Shaw accepted her as she was _now_ , how would she feel towards Root 1.0?

 

“Shaw...”

 

“Whatever, it's fine,” Shaw shook her head and padded back to the couch. She turned the television on and it was obvious she was done with this conversation for now.

 

Root sighed. At the same time, her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She took it out and read the message on screen: _PREDICTING TARGET VULNERABILITY IN APPROXIMATELY 30 MINTUES._

 

The opportunity came up sooner than she anticipated and Root had to think quickly. She took a soda from the fridge and poured it into a glass, mixing in some medication as well. Making her way to the couch, she held the beverage out for Shaw.

 

“Sameen, I don't want to keep anything from you.”

 

Shaw took the glass and had a drink, “then don't.” As if it was that easy.

 

Root sat next to her on the couch, “How about I make you breakfast tomorrow? I'll tell you everything.”

 

“Hmm,” Shaw tilted her head, “a bribe?”

 

“Is it working?”

 

“I'll let you know tomorrow.” Shaw downed the rest of the drink and placed the glass on a side table.

 

Root smiled sadly and watched Shaw for a few minutes. Eventually, her eyelids appeared to have become heavy.

 

“Root...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did you... drug me?” Her words came out slowly.

 

Root's expression turned solemn. “Yes.”

 

“What... ” she tried to move, but her body wasn't responding.

 

“Something very urgent came up.”

 

“Root... I swear to God...” her head bobbed.

 

Root stood from the couch and leaned over Shaw. She held her head in place so that she wouldn't fall forward and seconds later she was unconscious. Root took a throw blanket from the couch and lay it over Shaw's lap.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

She headed for the door. Approximately 20 minutes until her mark was defenseless for a time. Making sure she was sufficiently armed, Root gazed back at Shaw for a moment before leaving the apartment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye-bye Blackwell. Loser.
> 
> And hurray for pizza discourse!


	5. All in the Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root reveals her side-mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is essentially the finale. All that's left is a short epilogue just to set up part two, which I'll probably upload after the holidays.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

Shaw awoke slowly, disorientation still taking hold of her. She felt like she had fallen asleep on an airplane, cramped and uncomfortable, with her neck bent backwards strangely. She sat up and rubbed her face, taking in her surroundings.

 

She was still on the couch in Root's apartment, but Root herself was no where in sight. Shaw stood carefully, holding her abdomen for stability. She certainly slept for a long while, the time on the television read 03:49. Last she recalled it was close to 8PM.

 

“Root?”

 

Shaw began to remember how she ended up in this situation. Root had doped her with pain medication so that she could go on a mission that was apparently top secret. The only reason she would consider drugging an appropriate option is if the mission was dangerous, and with Root, they always were. She could understand Root's desire to protect Shaw, but throwing herself into perilous situations was unacceptable.

 

“Root!” She called again, raising her voice.

 

Hearing no response, Shaw ventured into the bedroom, checking in the attached bathroom on the way. During her stay, Root opted to sleep on the couch, allowing Shaw the comfort of the large bed. Shaw suggested it would be fine for them to share, but Root was adamant about not jeopardizing her recovery, or so she said. The bed was currently empty.

 

Since coming from the hospital, Shaw had felt a strange distance between herself and Root. At first she couldn't place it, but she realized it had something to do with the person she was researching. Of course, Shaw could never gain access to Root's computer without her knowledge, but she hoped that it wouldn't be necessary and Root would just come clean and include her in whatever she was pursuing. It wasn't like her to hide things.

 

A year and a half ago, she would have been thankful for the space. But they had been through so much together since then, and were both at difference places in their life. In fact, Root had become a constant, and sensing this restraint from her was leaving Shaw with a strange void in the pit of her stomach, one she had trouble pinning down with words.

 

She made her way back into the living area just as the front door opened and Root stepped through. She noticed Shaw right away.

 

“Hey sweetie, I'm surprised you're up.” She said it distractedly as she shed her coat and rubbed her hands together. Her nose was pink from the evening chill.

 

“Well you put me to bed pretty early.”

 

Root ignored the comment and made her way into the kitchen, retrieving a glass from the cabinet. Shaw stood on the other side of the island and watched as she filled it with wine and took a generous drink. Red flags began to pop up; Root barely had alcohol with dinner, and she certainly wasn't one to drink at 4AM.

 

“Mmm. I know you prefer bourbon,” Root began, filling her glass again, “but this _Chateau leFranc_ is incredible. What vintage? '89?”

 

“'86,” Shaw corrected, “Root, what are you doing?”

 

“Sorry about spiking your drink earlier, I needed to take care of something that couldn't wait.” Root drained the glass once more and busied herself in the kitchen, turning her back to Shaw.

 

“You were gone for for almost eight hours. Where were you?”

 

“Was it that long?” Her cheerful response was very forced.

 

She didn't answer the question, so Shaw asked again, “where were you?”

 

“Just here and there, you know how it can be with the Machine. Are you hungry? I'm starving,” Root continued to distract herself with nonsense in the kitchen. Shaw noticed that she hadn't once made eye contact with her, and that was just too wrong. Shaw had enough.

 

“Root. Look at me.”

 

She finally stopped moving and turned to face Shaw, her arms resting on the counter between them. Shaw carefully took in her appearance: the same clothes from yesterday, but wrinkled and dirty, her hair lacking it's normal volume, eyes without their shine, and...

 

“You have blood on you.”

 

The blood ran down her neck and to her collarbone, in addition to being sprayed on her shirt. It was barely dry when Root reached up to touch it. She broke eye contact and walked towards the bathroom, Shaw followed behind.

 

Root stood in front of the vanity and shed her soiled t-shirt. She turned the water on warm and held a towel under for a few seconds. Shaw stood in the doorway and watched her, her gaze falling upon Root's bare back. Shaw could see several red welts that looked pretty fresh. She also noted that while Root cleaned the blood from her chest, she could see no visible wound.

 

“Whose is it?”

 

“Not mine,” Root replied darkly. She finished wiping herself down and pulled her dirty shirt over her head again, still turned away from Shaw.

 

Root being covered with blood was a common occurrence. Typically, however, when Shaw brought it up she responded lightly with a flirtatious line, something about playing doctor, before revealing the blood belonging to some thug who got in her way. Her blunt disregard for their usual script was troubling.

 

“What the hell is going on with you? ” Shaw demanded.

 

Root finally turned to her. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about it,” she shook her head, “not since he taunted you the other day.”

 

“Root, what are you talking about?”

 

“Stuart,” she replied with a coldness Shaw had never heard in her voice.

 

“Who?”

 

“That vile little weasel who helped Samaritan put you through those simulations.” Root paused, but seeing no reaction from Shaw, she continued, “I've been tracking his movements.”

 

“Okay...” That made some sense, but didn't quite explain the blood or Root's strange behavior.

 

“I wrote a program to analyze his patterns, where he went, how often he checked in with Samaritan, where he got his coffee. It informed me that he would be relatively unprotected tonight and I... _apprehended_ him so we could have a little chat.”

 

“And?” Shaw prompted.

 

“And I killed him.” She said it almost casually, but the fury was clear in both her eyes and her voice.

 

Shaw's eyebrows raised. This was not at all what she concluded regarding Root's odd activity these last few days. She figured that Root was doing some complicated undercover work for the Machine, work that she deemed too dangerous for Shaw to even be aware of. Her hunting down and killing a Samaritan agent _by herself_ was definitely low on the list of explanations. Shaw thought that after Root joined team Machine, she was done with the hunting/murdering business. Her actions were somewhat worrisome. But they were also a little... hot?

 

“You _what_?”

 

“I'd do the same to anyone else who hurt you,” Root replied.

 

Shaw blinked several times, stunned. Root took the opening to dive into an explanation.

 

“You don't like being protected, I get that. But I couldn't just let that monster roam free. Not after the way he spoke to you. And certainly not after what he told me while we were spending some _quality_ time together.”

 

Shaw remained dumbfounded as Root continued.

 

“I'm sorry that I went behind your back. I was worried he might manipulate you, or put you in danger again.”

 

“Root--”

 

“And I know you're going to scold me for putting myself in danger, but I was careful, Shaw,” she brushed passed her into the bedroom, but continued to explain, “I even wore that Kevlar you had laying around.”

 

Shaw followed her into the room, “Root, I'm not--”

 

“If you're angry with me, then I'll do anything to gain your trust back. I hope you understand that I did this for you.”

 

Shaw opened her mouth to reply, but Root resumed her rambling. Having no desire to listen any further, however, Shaw grabbed the front of Root's shirt and pulled her inwards, crashing their lips together. Root was clearly shocked, as she didn't respond immediately, but after a second Shaw felt her sigh against her mouth and returned the kiss enthusiastically. Shaw reveled in the taste of her. They hadn't had any physical encounters since she escaped Samaritan and having experienced this many times in the simulations, Shaw had some reservations regarding their intimacy. But this time felt different. It felt real. Shaw moved her hands to wrap around the small of Root's back, clutching her tightly and pulling her close. Root held Shaw's head in her hands, roaming across her neck and jaw.

 

Shaw's hands strayed downwards and she grabbed onto Root's thighs, lifting her off the ground. Shaw could feel her smile, and the light laughter that escaped filled her with joy, as well as a yearning deep in the pit of her stomach. She carried Root a few steps until they reached the bed and tumbled downwards together, satisfying one another until well into the morning.

 

 

 

>

 

 

 

Shaw stirred much later, feeling at peace while still leaning into Root's back. Shaw kept her face against her skin, absorbing the warmth between Root's shoulder blades; listening to her inhaling and exhaling evenly. Shaw curled her arm around Root's waist and pondered their earlier conversation.

 

Though she would have liked to see Stuart suffer, she found herself feeling a sort of relief that he was no longer out there. Even though the Machine had taught them all to value life, Shaw was not above putting someone down for the sake of revenge. Given the chance, Shaw would happily kill every operative that she encountered while being held captive. Had the situations been reversed, she would have ended anyone and everyone involved with Root's suffering without hesitation. There would be no stopping her destructive path.  Perhaps that's why she was so at ease with the situation. She understood when drastic actions needed to be taken and could logically grasp where Root was coming from when she decided to hunt down the Samaritan doctor.

 

They truly were a perfect pair; so capable of defending themselves and yet willing to raze an empire for the sake of their partner. Root's actions made Shaw feel gratified and left her with a true sense of belonging. She lifted her head up slightly.

 

“Root? You awake?” Shaw waited for a response, but Root appeared to be sleeping soundly. She laid her head back down. “Thank you.”

 

Unknown to Shaw, Root's lips climbed up in a small smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, and thanks for tuning in!


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's just a small tease of the problems our girls will have to face in part two, which is coming along nicely. I expect to start having it up sometime in January.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

Greer walked with purpose into the room. His engineers finally had some news regarding the computer they retrieved weeks ago. Considering Miss Shaw and Miss Groves both escaped the hospital, and two of his assets had been killed in the meantime, he demanded information that could be acted on.

 

“Report,” he ordered, stepping down from the landing.

 

One of the agents stood from the computer and addressed him. “Sir, we finally decrypted some potentially useful information.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well,” she began, “the device carried pieces of several protocols, many of which were damaged when Miss Groves shot it. But I do believe we have uncovered their communication channel at least.”

 

Greer moved to look at her monitor, “go on,” he encouraged.

 

“We all know that the Machine contacts the interface via her cochlear implant. We _didn't_ know the specifics behind the unique path they used to accomplish that. Now we do. We've conducted several tests by sending interference through the channel. All data is showing that it successfully transmitted.”

 

“Are you suggesting that we can now send messages to Miss Groves the way the Machine has?”

 

“Yes sir. And now that we have this code, she wont be able to tell that it's not actually her machine.”

 

Though he would have preferred to have location data, either Miss Groves, or the Machine itself, perhaps this was even better. Greer smiled.

 

“That is very interesting indeed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, and as always, thanks for tuning in.


End file.
